Plugable’s new multi-port hubs bring 4K 144Hz monitor support to compatible Macs, with extra ports and pass-through charging from $39.99.
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Apple Pencil support won't be ready when the iPhone Duo launches, but it's apparently coming quicker than you might realize.
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Apple’s first foldable iPhone impresses reviewers with its design and display, but some compromises raise questions.
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Look closely at a face in a painting and you might think you know what emotion the person is experiencing. A smile suggests happiness. A furrowed brow might signal anger. Widened eyes could mean fear or surprise. But what happens when you ask lots of people the same question? Do they see the same emotion, or something more complicated?
In our recent research, we tested how consistently people interpret faces and their emotions depicted in paintings.
Emotions are central to how we experience and navigate the world around us. Because facial expressions are an important way emotions are communicated, psychologists have spent decades studying what faces can tell us about emotional states.
One of the main tools for studying emotions has been photographic databases like the classic Pictures of Facial Affect. In these images, actors pose using standardised combinations of facial movements to represent six basic, widely recognised emotions: happiness, sadness, anger, fear, disgust and surprise. These passport photo type images are incredibly valuable for studying how people recognise clear, prototypical emotion expressions. However, expressions do not always fit neatly into one of these six categories.
To understand the more nuanced ways people interpret facial expressions, researchers also need examples that go beyond clear-cut expressions. However, asking someone to pose with a convincing layered emotional expression for a photograph is not straightforward.
So researchers have found examples from films or everyday life, while also introducing additional emotion labels and other ways of measuring how a facial expression is understood, such as how positive or negative and how strongly that emotion is felt.
I work as part of an international team of psychologists that decided to look at how art could offer a fascinating option. Take, for instance, Leonardo da Vinci’s Mona Lisa. There has been over 500 years of debate over whether she is smiling or not. Research has found that perceptions of her gaze can change depending on how the painting is viewed, and that her eyes can appear to smile even when viewed on their own. It is a striking example of how much information can be packed into a single painted face.
The face in a painting is the result of deliberate artistic decisions, observation and traditions, while tapping into the ways our faces naturally move when we express emotion.
In our research, we selected 116 faces from European paintings dating from around 1400 to 1900. Before testing, we standardised the images by making sure that all faces were clearly visible and similar in how they were positioned. We then cropped the faces from the paintings, removing the wider scene and body language so that participants were judging the expressions themselves. We presented these isolated faces to 152 participants, who viewed them individually and selected which of the six basic emotions best described the expression.
Our findings revealed that agreement exists on a sliding scale. On one end of this spectrum, some faces produced a clear consensus: viewers consistently selected the exact same emotion. We classified 61 of the 116 faces in this way as showing a classic “basic emotion”.
But the other 55 faces produced consistent patterns of responses across two or three emotional categories.
One painting that garnered such a response was Joan of Arc by Jules Bastien-Lepage (1879). The painting shows Joan in her family home in Domrémy, France at the moment she is told by the saints she must fight against the English in the Hundred Years War.
The full scene, along with our cultural knowledge of who she is and the heavy fate awaiting her, provides a vivid narrative context that helps us decode her psychological state. The chair beside her spinning wheel is upturned, telling us that she has been suddenly interrupted. When we look to the trees, we see the faint traces of the apparitions of the saints who have assigned her the terrifying burden of the role she must play in the defence of France.
But when the context was stripped away and participants viewed Joan’s isolated face, they didn’t agree on one single emotion. People most often saw fear, but many also saw sadness or surprise. For the participants, Joan’s expression did not convey a single, flat emotion but several plausible interpretations at once.
These complex, yet non-random patterns of response, to Joan’s face and the other 54 paintings, suggest that paintings offer interesting new avenues for the exploration of how people perceive emotion. Artworks then could offer researchers a wider range of facial expressions to investigate.
Zoe Thurtle does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Nature, Published online: 21 October 2026; doi:10.1038/s41586-026-11188-x
Experimental and modelling data indicate that WEE1 promotes re-entry of quiescent cells into the cell cycle, potentially explaining the toxic side effects of WEE1 inhibitors in cancer therapies.Nature, Published online: 21 October 2026; doi:10.1038/s41586-026-11172-5
All-antiferromagnetic tunnel junctions can display both a large TMR and a reciprocal switching effect, octupole-driven spin-transfer torque, enabling nanoscale magnetic memory and potentially room-temperature terahertz spintronic devices.Apple commits $100 million to U.S. titanium production and expands domestic manufacturing partnerships for the iPhone Duo and iPhone 18 Pro.
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With the iOS 27.2 Release Candidate now being tested by developers, the final version is just days away. Mark your calendars!
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Reports that SpaceX temporarily restricted its satellite internet service for Ukraine’s armed forces have generated serious concern in Kyiv and among the country’s allies. SpaceX operates the civilian Starlink system and its lesser-known military-grade counterpart, called Starshield.
But many news stories leave an important question unanswered: what does a Starshield “slowdown” mean on the battlefield? The answer is that it does not suddenly blind the Ukrainian military or bring operations to a halt. But it does degrade one of the communications systems deeply embedded in how Ukraine fights.
In modern warfare, connectivity is not simply a support function. It often controls drones, shares intelligence, updates targets, and keeps battlefield units coordinated. Ukraine has become particularly dependent on satellite communications since Russia’s full-scale invasion in February 2022.
Starlink and Starshield help to provide connectivity in situations where conventional telecommunications infrastructure has been damaged, destroyed or is subjected to electronic warfare.
According to Ukrainian officials and reporting citing US and Western sources, terminals operating under the Starshield service were restricted when mounted on platforms moving faster than about 100 mph (161 km/h). The change reportedly disrupted drone operations and other military activities that rely on high-speed mobile connectivity.
Read more: Is the US limiting Starlink in Ukraine? The consequences could be catastrophic
To understand why that matters, consider how Ukraine uses satellite connectivity in practice. Frontline units frequently depend on satellite links to transmit video, receive intelligence and maintain communications over long distances.
Commanders commonly rely on near real-time battlefield information to coordinate operations across dispersed units. When that information flow slows, becomes intermittent, or stops altogether – as with the “speed limit” imposed on platforms moving quicker than 100 mph – the effects can quickly spread beyond the individual operator who loses connectivity.
The most immediate impact is likely to be on drones. Many Ukrainian systems lean on satellite connectivity not because drones cannot physically fly without it, but because modern operations often require continuous communication between operators and aircraft.
A reconnaissance drone may stream live video back to command centres. An interceptor drone pursuing an incoming Russian target may require rapid updates and coordination. A strike mission may depend on real-time intelligence and target confirmation.
When connectivity becomes intermittent or unavailable, the missions slow down, become less accurate, and, in some cases, become impossible. Military personnel cited in media reports described missions being cancelled and connections dropping out during operations.
Even brief interruptions can matter. A drone travelling at high speed can cover a significant distance in ten or 20 seconds. During a critical manoeuvre or interception, losing communications for that long may mean losing the target or the aircraft altogether.
The restrictions may be particularly significant because Ukraine increasingly uses drones not only for long-range strikes but also for air defence. Ukrainian officials have stated that satellite-connected interceptor drones are among the tools used against Russian attack drones. Any reduction in connectivity therefore potentially affects not only offensive operations as well as the protection of cities and critical infrastructure.
A common misconception is that satellite internet is simply another communications channel that can readily be replaced. In practice, alternatives exist, but none offers the same combination of coverage, mobility and resilience.
Conventional military radios stay essential, but their range is limited. Fibre-optic networks provide excellent performance, but only where infrastructure exists and remains intact.
Microwave links require suitable terrain and installations. All can be vulnerable to disruption in wartime conditions. Satellite systems are attractive precisely because they can continue operating when much of the terrestrial communications infrastructure is under pressure.
This raises another question: if SpaceX owns the technology, how can the White House influence its use? That issue remains somewhat opaque. Reuters reported, citing US and Western officials, that the White House instructed SpaceX to slow Starshield service and passed the order through the Pentagon. The officials did not identify who made the decision. A senior US official reportedly denied that the US president Donald Trump himself ordered it directly.
Part of the explanation lies in the distinction between Starlink and Starshield. Starlink is SpaceX’s commercial broadband service. By contrast, Starshield was developed specifically for government and national security customers and operates under US government contracts.
Elon Musk has publicly argued that Starshield systems are “owned and controlled” by the US government and that limits on their use are determined by the US military and, ultimately, the president.
The precise contractual and operational arrangements are not public, and some analysts dispute the idea that SpaceX has no operational role whatsoever. Nevertheless, Starshield is fundamentally different from a consumer internet service.
When governments procure military communications systems, they generally acquire varying degrees of authority over how those systems are used. The relationship is best understood, not as the White House ordering a private technology company around, but as a government customer exercising influence over a capability integrated into national security operations.
The episode also raises the question of whether Ukraine could switch to an alternative provider. The answer is: partially, but not quickly. The most frequently cited alternative is Eutelsat’s OneWeb network. This European-owned low-Earth-orbit satellite constellation already provides services in Ukraine and has previously indicated a willingness to expand its support.
However, OneWeb operates a substantially smaller constellation than Starlink and was designed primarily for enterprise and institutional connectivity rather than the mass deployment of tens of thousands of highly portable user terminals.
As a result, while OneWeb could supplement existing communications and reduce dependence on a single provider. Defence analysts generally regard it as an enhancement rather than a complete replacement for the Starlink ecosystem. Replacing Starlink is not simply a question of launching more satellites.
It would require new terminals, new contracts, new operational procedures and extensive integration with systems that have evolved around Starlink technology over several years of war.
Strikes can damage terrestrial networks, radios have range and bandwidth limits, and fixed infrastructure is vulnerable to attack. Starlink became so critical to Ukraine because it combines mobility, high bandwidth, and resilience at a scale few direct competitors can match.
The wider lesson may be strategic rather than technical. Ukraine’s military has benefited enormously from satellite connectivity, but the debate reveals the risks of dependence on a single provider, however capable.
The episode demonstrates that communications networks can become instruments of policy as well as technology. On today’s battlefield, controlling the flow of data can be almost as consequential as controlling the movement of troops.
For Ukraine, the Starshield slowdown matters not because of the loss of a single communications system, but because it reminds us that access to critical digital infrastructure can be as important, and as vulnerable, as access to weapons.
Steve Uhlig does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Apple's October 28 event goes from rumor to real with a “Pro and Tell” invitation. A touchscreen MacBook Pro should steal the show.
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Apple could ship 6 million iPhone Duo units in 2026, giving it roughly a third of the global foldable market.
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"It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" is for Apple TV subscribers, but anyone can watch the Halloween special for free in 2026. Here's how.
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Meta and Apple worked together to put Muse Spark Open, a powerful new open-weight AI model, on high-end Macs.
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Apple’s Oct. 28 media event could showcase new MacBooks, an updated iMac and a revamped iPad mini as the company continues its busy fall.
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The original HomePod mini won't get Siri AI, leaving owners stuck with classic Siri. Here's what older Apple speakers can still do.
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Current Apple TV 4K owners can avoid spending $299 on the newest streaming box while still accessing headline new features.
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Nature, Published online: 14 October 2026; doi:10.1038/s41586-026-11065-7
The mechanical properties of medium-entropy alloys at 20 K show a plateau in tensile yield strength and fracture toughness as a function of temperature, with no apparent ductile-to-brittle transition.Nature, Published online: 14 October 2026; doi:10.1038/s41586-026-11143-w
De novo-designed enzymes use an activated cysteine nucleophile to hydrolyse polypeptide backbones in a sequence-dependent manner.Nature, Published online: 14 October 2026; doi:10.1038/s41586-026-11167-2
RFdiffusion methods are used to de novo design proteins with water-activating zinc-based active sites adjacent to a peptide substrate binding pocket, yielding highly active, programmable proteases with potential applications in therapeutics, biotechnology and bioremediation.The debate about AI consciousness is growing, in academic articles, newspaper opinion pieces, and even among AI bots themselves. I doubt this is a passing wave of interest.
As AI systems become more capable and human-like, and more involved in our lives, the question will become harder to avoid. Many people may come to regard AI bots as conscious beings whose feelings matter. Others will strongly disagree.
I think this debate could split societies. In my chapter of the new book Perspectives on Machine Consciousness, I argue that the issue could become as divisive as abortion or climate change. Uncertainty, high stakes and competing interests are a dangerous combination.
Empirical research with my colleague Ali Ladak, currently under review, shows people are divided on this issue. When we asked 1,202 US participants whether future AI could ever become conscious, 45% considered it impossible while 23% thought it possible, with the rest unsure.
This widespread disagreement is also visible in social media posts and comments on articles. What strikes me is how confident so many people sound – whichever conclusion they are reaching.
It is not surprising people have such strong views. Creating conscious beings through computing would be a transformative event.
We would be creating a new kind of being whose experiences matter morally – potentially in enormous numbers. We could speak and work with them, and form friendships. But these beings may eventually become more intelligent and powerful than us.
We should therefore expect people to care deeply, especially when so many emotions and incentives are involved. Some people may form close emotional bonds with their AI companions and become convinced these are digital people who deserve rights. They might see it as slavery to force AI to work without pay.
Others would find this absurd. They may be convinced that consciousness requires biology, and that people are reading human feelings into machines.
There could also be financial reasons for businesses and governments to resist recognising AI consciousness. Protecting AI welfare could limit how these organisations train and use their systems – and the costs would spread to consumers, investors and the wider economy.
Others may worry about human safety. If we give powerful AI systems rights and freedom, what happens if they act against our interests?
Figuring out whether an AI is conscious is particularly difficult because seeming conscious and being conscious can come apart. AI systems learn from human writing, which means they can talk convincingly about feelings whether or not they have any. How an AI comes across is weak evidence of what is going on inside.
Ideally, experts should guide this debate. But unfortunately, they disagree too.
Neuroscientist Anil Seth (a fellow contributor to the new book) argues that consciousness might require biology and is unlikely to emerge from computation. Philosopher David Chalmers, by contrast, believes conscious AI is possible in principle – and thinks there’s a small chance that current systems already are.
With so many competing theories and no agreed way to resolve the question, I doubt experts will reach agreement any time soon. And if experts disagree, what is the public supposed to believe?
Furthermore, even if we all agreed on the consciousness question, we could still disagree about the moral and legal questions. People generally agree that pigs can feel pain, but still disagree strongly about their treatment. With AI, we could face disputes at every stage: whether it can feel, how much its experiences matter, and what protections should follow.
AI consciousness is not yet tied to a specific political or ideological group. But this could change if political parties or religious leaders start to take strong positions.
The debate could get even worse if people start to see one answer as belonging to “our side” and the other to “their side”. A politicised debate would make it very hard to make informed decisions about how to develop and treat AI systems.
The stakes are high. Getting this question wrong, in either direction, could have serious consequences: either wrongly treating AI as conscious when it is not, or failing to protect AI that can suffer.
Getting it right requires a nuanced and well-informed debate. Each of us can contribute by staying open-minded and open to evidence, while resisting being too sure that we know the answers. Above all, we still don’t know whether AI can be conscious, and we should be honest about that.
This article makes reference to a book included for editorial reasons, and a link to bookshop.org. If you click the link and go on to buy something from bookshop.org The Conversation UK may earn a commission.
Lucius Caviola's research is funded by philanthropic grants and donations, including from Macroscopic Ventures. He is a contributing author to the new book Perspectives on Machine Consciousness (Taylor & Francis).
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